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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27418651">Dishes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Denzer/pseuds/Denzer'>Denzer</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff without Plot, I'm Bad At Tagging, No Pregnancy, Romantic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Water Fight</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:21:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,459</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27418651</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Denzer/pseuds/Denzer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A small, fluffy piece in thanks to <a href="https://twitter.com/reylographer">Halle</a> who drew this gorgeous picture as a distraction to the current election anxiety. </p>
<p>No smut, just fluff. </p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rey &amp; Ben Solo, Rey &amp; Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>82</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dishes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He’s angry. Rey can hear him sloshing water as he scrubs the pots. He’s been angry for days now. Never at her directly, but Rey still knows she’s the cause.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was an honest mistake. Rey had been sure she was alone in the apartment. And she’d apologised.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>But that was on Wednesday afternoon and now it’s Friday night and Ben’s still a ball of tension, sharp movements and deep frowns interspersed with staring into the space in front of wherever she happens to be standing. Even his voice is clipped and short. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll do the dishes,” he mumbles, and he’s up off the couch before Rey can open her mouth, not even letting her protest before he’s telling her “’S fine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rey twists over the back of the couch and watches his wide shoulders moving with the ferocity of his pot-scouring. And suddenly, she’s a little mad too. He saw her naked. It’s not the end of the world. Her bare ass is no reason for a cold war. But if it is, she figures she may as well make it an outright battle. Just to see what he does. The adrenaline of that thought is enough to move her.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>She leans her hip against the counter beside him, smiling too slowly for him to catch because he only gives her a quick glance and then glares at the pan in his hands. The water is filthy; bits of pasta floating in foam tinged orange from sauce. Her stomach won’t stop shaking, even when she takes a breath so deep that Ben stops scrubbing and looks at her out of the corner of his eye. She dips her hand in the dirty water and flicks it at him. There’s not much else she can do; she’s in it now, doesn’t have another reason for standing this close to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The moment it’s done, there’s an echoing slosh in her stomach and her cheeks bloom pink. She stares at his open mouth. His hands draw wide, opening out around the darkening patch of dirty water on his t-shirt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He mouths the words “What the…?” and Rey loses her mind a little bit. There’s a line she has crossed and she’s reeling from it, unsure of how to back up, or even if she wants to. She flicks him again and this time, he steps back. Not far enough to avoid the spray and the water speckles across his chest. He lifts his chin and takes a breath to speak but Rey is totally gone now, giddy at the shock on his face. It’s almost, </span>
  <em>
    <span>almost</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the same way he’d looked at her before, eyes roving up and down her body, mouth moving like he’s rolling his tongue against the back of his teeth. This time, there’s no reason for him to look away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re mad at me,” she says, her widest grin on display for him before she scoops a handful and directs it at his face. His raised palm catches most of it but a piece of cold pasta lodges itself onto his spattered cheek and Rey is snorting, giggling with wet fingers over her mouth. “You’re really mad,” comes out high-pitched, almost manic.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>His mouth snaps closed, full lips pressed flat between clenched teeth and Rey doesn’t know whether she sees anger there, or shock, or something else entirely. She thought she’d learned all of his expressions by now, after so many months of living in the same small space, but this one is new.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a sudden shift and she’s drenched, the sweep of tepid water hitting her chin, shoulders, and chest, and knocking the laughter from her instantly. She doesn’t have time to finish gasping before he’s apologising, a tea-cloth patting ineffectually across her collarbones.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh shit! Rey, I’m sorry!” He says it twice and, the second time, Rey hears the widening of his throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s laughing, the fucker.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a cup on the counter and she goes for it. It’s only fair to even the score and her hands are half the size of his. He’s managed to half-drown her with just one swipe. Rey needs more firepower.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ben’s too quick for her, grasping her wrists and pulling them toward him, throaty chortling in between sincere apologies as she struggles. He stops cold after a moment, releasing her hands so quickly she stops to look up at him. His eyes are focused on her chest and Rey doesn’t need to look down to know what he’s seeing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Their hands hover between them. This was an accident too. How was she to know he’d splash her back? If she’d thought of it, she would have worn a bra, wouldn’t she? She should probably cover where her damp t-shirt is sticking to her. But she doesn’t. Rey breathes a little harder instead, stands a little taller. And there it is, that look she’s been so sure she’d seen, right there in his parted lips and his blown wide pupils and the quick slide of his Adam’s apple as he swallows.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now that it’s here, right in front of her, Rey is suddenly uncertain. The longer he stands there, statue-still, the more unsure she gets. When he doesn’t move after several seconds, Rey’s shoulders curl inwards on their own and she pulls at the hem of her t-shirt, lifting it away from her wet skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry,” she whispers and turns to walk away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ben lets her get about three steps before she hears him mutter, “Fuck it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>His arm comes around her waist, crossing over hers, and dragging her back so she loses her balance with an ungainly whoop. Ben catches her, rights her, lifts her, and promptly dumps her into the sink. The water rises over the tops of her thighs and spills onto the counter and floor. Rey’s mouth is gaping wide and her fingers squeeze around the backs of Ben’s arms as she tries to absorb the shock of cold that comes right up to her lower back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ben’s mouth is moving oddly, a smile that turns down at the corners instead of up, and Rey’s breathless in the face of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re really </span>
  <em>
    <span>mad</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she says and he takes his hands from her waist and grips the counter, fingers dipping into the sink on either side of her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re really wet,” he tells her. His right forefinger comes up, runs a line along the hem of her drenched shorts, zinging along her skin like a burn.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>She doesn’t know who moves first, whether he leans forward or she does, but one moment he’s staring at her, and the next they are kissing, frantic and deep, like she blinked and missed a whole series of small movements that lead to this one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>His hand slides to her back, the other dipping into the water to lift her out of it and balance her on the edge of the sink. His shoulders move with the same intensity as his mouth, hips nudging her knees wide. There’s the sound of water cascading onto the floor and their heavy breath and he’s moving his hands, holding her steady with one while the other skirts her ribs, thumb running the underside of her breast over her sopping t-shirt. He breaks away to kiss her neck and that piece of pasta that’s stuck to his cheek is pressed against her jawline, forcing a nervous laugh from her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he pulls back to check her face, she plucks it from his skin and tosses it. Ben gives her a small, amused huff and lifts her from the sink. Her legs come around him so naturally that Rey’s thoughts swim and she can see all the things she’s done since Wednesday so clearly now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’d been fighting for this moment, with too-short pajamas and yoga in the living room right before he was due home, leaning over the table to pass him his coffee and sitting with her legs crossed on the couch so her knee touched his thigh. She needs to know now, as he walks them toward the bathroom, whether he feels like he’s lost the battle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ben, are you sure you really want this?” she whispers in his ear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pulls back to look at her, confused, “Since you moved in. You?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Same. Just didn’t know how to bring it up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, you thought,” he grins at her, “water fight?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was that or jump you in your sleep.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s chuckling now, she can feel the vibration of it where her stomach and pressed against his, “I should have held out longer.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When he kisses her this time, it’s slow, almost lazy and Rey knows she’ll think of this kiss every time she washes dishes from now on. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Listen, fluff is even harder to write than smut, OK? </p>
<p>Thanks <a href="https://twitter.com/foxfleur">RedRoseWhite</a> for always being so kind and supportive and reminding me that sometimes you just need to kill your brain-goblins and post the damn story.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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